A Thursday Feast.

There is only one word that can describe tonight’s dinner.

I also find it amusing that I just posted my top 5 favorite workouts yesterday. I could wax poetic about the irony of my posting this under “Fit Bites,” but that would be quite unlike me, now wouldn’t it?

First off, I get the feeling that you guys think that Mr. How Sweet and I eat like this everyday. That is not the case. We actually eat pretty healthy throughout the week. We may have a meal like this once a month, if we’re lucky. But I have no idea why you would think we eat like this daily…

Moving on.

Today I had this overwhelming sense to cook a meal chock-full of comfort food. I literally couldn’t get home fast enough to do it. Cooking like this is my therapy. While we usually eat home-cooked food every weeknight evening, I don’t always cook it that night. Many times, I cook ahead on the weekends. This is a must, since we both have jobs.

But sometimes, I just crave that feeling of putting an entire meal together in the kitchen. A meal that is still hot and goes directly from the stove to your stomach. Maybe it was my maternal instinct that I will probably never have kicking in? I really just wanted to cook for my man tonight.

The problem was I couldn’t decide on what I wanted to make. Something sinful. Something comforting. I knew smashed potatoes had to be involved. So I consulted my favorite comfort-foodie friend and she suggested chicken fried steak.

For hours, I pondered the idea. I have never made chicken fried steak. Yikes. It scared me. In fact, just the name alone kind of disgusts me. I didn’t share that part with her though. But we never ate chicken fried steak growing up. Would I like it?

Finally, I decided.

Chicken fried steak it was. I figured that I probably wouldn’t even like the steak, but would go to town on the mashed potatoes.  I knew Mr. How Sweet would love the steak, so I sucked it up and decided to make it for him. After all, I love cooking for my loved ones. That is where I get the most joy out of cooking.

But then I saw it. And smelled it. And I took a bite…. and I couldn’t stop eating it. This was all mid-cook, by the way.

I made the smashed potatoes. Butter, heavy cream and all.

And then green beans for the token veggies. Not that I had any.

Okay, I had one. But just because it was swimming in a lonely pond of butter and sea salt.

Oh, and she also convinced me to make a gravy.

A cream gravy, nonetheless.

This meal literally changed my life. I didn’t even have a proper plate because I had tasted so many bites by the time Mr. How Sweet got home that I was no longer hungry. That happens all the time. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

And then I died and went to Heaven.

But I came back to life. Because this can’t be the only time I’d ever eat chicken fried steak.

And I think Mr. How Sweet wants to get married again. I haven’t seen him this happy since he found his old Conway Twitty cassette tapes.

(Don’t worry. Only 2 sticks (okay… maybe 3) of butter were harmed in the process of making this meal.)